Page 29 of A Silenced Midlife

"Nothing to be worried about," Drew assured her, though his stance remained official. "May we come in for a moment?"

"Un, sure, I guess." She wiped her hands on her jeans and led us inside. We settled into an unpacked living room, boxes stacked against walls.

The woman extended her hand, a half-smile on her face despite the worry rippling over her face. "I'm Miranda Stewart, and this is my son, Liam."

"Nice to meet you both," I said, shaking her hand briefly.

"Liam, say hello," Mrs. Stewart nudged.

"Hi," he muttered, not fully meeting our gaze.

Drew cleared his throat. "When did you move to Shipton?"

"About a week ago," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I've been back in New York until last night. I had to finish clearing out our old place. Liam held down the fort here. We started unpacking early this morning."

It was still early in my book, but I nodded, piecing together the timeline in my head. With her gone, Liam's unchecked magic must have been what led us here.

Drew discreetly pulled out his phone, typed something quickly, and then tilted the screen toward me.

I don't think she has any idea. She is fully human.

"Mind if I ask why Shipton?" Drew's tone was casual.

"A job opened up," she answered, patting Liam's knee. "Third-grade teacher at the local elementary school. Couldn't pass it up."

"Must've been tough leaving your old school, huh?" I directed at Liam, who just shrugged without looking up.

"Liam is a wonderful boy," Mrs. Stewart continued. "He’s always been so grounded and well-behaved. I can't imagine why the police would need to speak with him."

I couldn’t let the poor woman suffer and wonder. "Mrs. Stewart, I want to be clear—Liam isn't in any trouble with us," I said, trying to soften the worry on her face. "Nothing weird has been happening around the house, has it?" I watched her closely.

She glanced away briefly before shaking her head. "No, nothing. Just the usual moving mess."

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the truth stone, and handed it to her. "Here, please hold this for a second."

Reluctantly, she took the stone from me. Her eyes darted between the smooth rock and my face, confusion clear in her gaze.

"Any odd occurrences at all?" I pressed once more with the truth stone now in her possession.

"No, I told you. Just boxes everywhere." She gestured towards the mountains of cardboard that cluttered the living room.

I took the stone from her and turned to Liam, who was eyeing it warily. "Your turn, hold this, please," I said as I extended it toward him. He hesitated, giving me a look that screamed his discomfort.

"Come on, it's just a rock," I encouraged gently. But he knew it wasn’t just an ordinary stone. His hand shook slightly as he finally let me place the stone in his palm.

"Anything strange been going on?" I asked again.

The stone's weight seemed to change in Liam's hand as met me stare. And then, the dam broke. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Everything's just been... it's all crazy," he stammered, his words muffled by the hand he'd clapped over his mouth. Mrs. Stewart pulled him into an embrace, her own face a mask of horror and confusion.

"Like what?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

"Strange stuff... everywhere I go." He choked on his tears, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "That guy yesterday, the one who turned into a gorilla... you were there. You said it was a stunt."

I grimaced. "I'm sorry, Liam, but I think deep down, you know why these things are happening."

He shook his head desperately, disbelief written across his features. "I have no idea. But it's not only when I'm out. At home too. Things float, glow, catch fire..." he trailed off, and he looked at me with wide, pleading eyes. "I put them out with water. Last night, I—I thought I was flying."

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